


A Series of Mini Adventures

by LusidDreamer



Series: Loki and Pavi [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Drabble Collection, Ficlet Collection, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Some Humor, Tumblr Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:44:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4694234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LusidDreamer/pseuds/LusidDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To give a bit of background into why this ship is even a thing, have this collection of written prompt responses from my roleplay blog.<br/>Vaguely chronological and under the premise that Loki is pretending to be a run-of-the-mill guy while wooing a certain spoiled little playboy (and getting somewhat attached himself).<br/>Expect silliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Series of Mini Adventures

**Prompt: Bite Me**

When Loki had a fling, it usually remained a one-time affair— especially when it came to humans. They simply didn’t have the adventurous nature, the imagination and especially not the stamina to keep up with him and his specific wants.

This one, however, he’d spent several evenings (and subsequent mornings) with over the past several weeks, and nothing the deviant god had done thus far had caused him to bat an eye. Not that he’d really done anything too extreme yet, but it was notable that Pavi Largo seemed to spare not one shred of concern for his partner when it came to inflicting pain. As enjoyable as that undoubtedly was, and regardless of how good the bruises on his neck and hips ached, the ever-fickle Loki was beginning to tire of it. He wished to see if there was a flip side to this Casanova who always radiated such raw, dominant masculinity— and the fact Loki would be keeping up his ruse of being human would make it all the more interesting.

Pavi had gone out for a drink alone this time. He was always so concerned with what the paparazzi would say if they noticed him entertaining one person so frequently, so some nights he’d pick up girls as normal, and others he’d pick Loki up or meet him elsewhere before heading home… and sometimes the god would be there already, waiting for him in bed.

Tonight was one of those nights.

A great volume of booze had definitely been consumed, judging by the cloying smell of fruit and vodka, and even when his sluggish body landed heavily (and ungracefully) on the bed beside him, it wasn’t until one clumsy hand connected with Loki’s that Pavi jumped and cursed.

“Shit, Lohk-iii,” he slurred, hiccupping rather cutely and sounding very Italian American. “Ya fuckin’ scared me… jerk-off…”

“Somebody’s bitten off more than they could chew,” Loki replied with a sneer, then propped himself up on one elbow to take a look at the drunken playboy. There was a definite smell of sex on him and, taking advantage of Pavi’s compromised state, the god found himself diving in to inhale the scent of his throat— natural musk and hair products and, of course, ladies perfume. There was even a smeared lip-print there, red as blood, and Loki gently grazed his teeth over it, smirking.

“Did this one actually give you permission?”

"Fuck youuuuu. They all want… the Pavi.”

Loki said nothing and nipped once with his teeth, making the other whine half-heartedly in protest. Taking the lack of real aggression as a good enough sign, he did it again on that same spot, except this time with enough pressure to bring blood rushing and throbbing to the skin’s surface. That was apparently enough to set alarm bells ringing that pierced even Pavi’s drunken haze, and he inched away from his assailant somewhat, the beginnings of a ‘what’ forming on black painted lips.

"I was only leaving a slightly more lasting mark,” the god cut in, though his tone remained gentle rather than demanding. Slowly, long fingers began to make their path up Pavi’s tense body, lingering at the waistband of his boxers momentarily before sliding beneath the soft t-shirt he’d changed into… And just like that, his muscles relaxed at the silken touch, allowing Loki to close the gap between them.

His other hand found purchase in thick, black hair, and although Pavi said nothing the room was silent enough to hear his breathing grow just that little bit more uneven, to feel the body within his grasp twitch subtly with the desire for more. And yet, there was a certain… obedience, that seemed to prevent him from making any attempt to proceed further…

… But perhaps that was just inebriation.

Nonetheless Loki simply took him in for some time, allowing himself to feast upon the heavy-lidded eyes, the parted mouth that was just illuminated enough by lamplight to see the tongue glistening within, the well defined angle of his jaw and the elegant yet definitely masculine slope of bared throat. So far Loki had felt no particular need to lay claim to this creature but now, all vulnerable and pliant as he was, Pavi appeared to him as a sumptuous feast— and all for him.

No further time was wasted before Loki went in for the kill, all teeth and growls, attacking the flesh with a ferocity you’d expect from some animal or monster— certainly not a regular man. Even so, much care was taken not to break the skin, to only bring vibrant smatterings of colour to the pale surface before moving on to the next spot.

Apparently too drunk or too overwhelmed to attempt any form of protest (or perhaps he just enjoyed the pain that much), Pavi simply clung to Loki’s shoulders, but the sounds he made were music. Debauched, shamelessly indulgent music that the god controlled with either roughness or respite— or made all the more beautiful when unforgiving bites were laced further down to more sensitive areas, teasing a nipple here and bruising a hip there.

When finally he stopped to tug playfully on Pavi’s waistband with his teeth, a pair of shaking hands slipped into his hair, forcing Loki to look up.

"Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you from here on out~”

Pavi said nothing, but all Loki needed were those dark, glazed eyes to understand what he wished to say:

‘Don’t.’

 

 

 **Prompt:** **“** **I’ve brought you a gift.** **”**

Loki glanced up from the newspaper, casting Pavi an altogether unimpressed and disbelieving look. It wasn’t at all like him to offer a gift unless it was for some formality’s sake, and the god knew he had a tendency to prank that was almost Loki-ish… except not quite as brilliant.

“Is it your penis?” he asked bluntly, casting the paper down on the sofa beside him and eyeing the mysterious package with heavily veiled interest. “Is your penis in that box? Am I going to open the box and find your penis within? Because let me warn you in advance, that is not my idea of a worthy sacrifice.”

Pavi waited with strained patience for Loki to shut up before his cartoonish grin finally returned, stretching the grisly mask in a display that should not have been even remotely endearing— but what can one do?

"Actually, yes… and’a no,” he replied with an attempt at mystery that was somewhat lost thanks to the silly Italian lilt.

“I see.”

Loki deliberately inquired no further and picked up the paper— for the sole purpose of making this whole situation as uncomfortable for Pavi as possible, his burning curiosity and excitement could wait. As expected, the newspaper was soon batted rudely from his hands, scattering pages everywhere as it was replaced with the box.

"Just’a fucking open it, asshole.”

With a self-satisfied scoff Loki finally did as he was told, and tossed aside the lid before peeling away the obnoxious layers of tissue paper.

Surely enough, there was a penis inside.

A rather nice penis, at that, in a soft shade of lilac and with a very specific shape, texture and size that was undoubtedly—

"— your penis, but not… I get it. You think you’re so amazing that I need your exact cock in me every time, hmm?”

The resulting smile was inevitable, however, regardless of Loki’s impulsive need to treat this as merely a crude joke and not as the first instance of Pavi making a genuine effort to have something made for him (the fact it just happened to provide testament to the Largo heir’s colossal ego was inconsequential in light of the sentiment Loki perceived in the gesture).

Of course, he would elaborate no more upon his feelings on the matter from that point, but his dumbly grinning face spoke volumes.

“You’re’a welcome~”

 

 

**Prompt: Snow (Characters in the cold together)**

It turned out that, outside of the bedroom, Pavi was actually a rather quiet individual. Seldom did he disclose anything about himself that didn’t pertain to more superficial interests, and when confronted with a topic too personal for his tastes he’d brush it off… or deliberately ‘misunderstand’ and go off on some unrelated tangent.

Convincing as the ruse may have been to some, it had become a point of growing frustration for Loki, who was progressively becoming more tangled up in lust, intrigue and a strange sort of attachment regarding… whatever Pavi was to him. Certainly not a lover, though perhaps more than just a ‘fuck-buddy’, as the little gentleman so charmingly liked to put it. Neither could they be described simply as friends or acquaintances… not now that Loki found himself yearning to know more of Pavi, to have more, to see more…

… So it was that the god consciously began to notice things. He’d ask about Sanitarium, about the smog-laden clouds and the buildings, and usually receive a disinterested sort of response. Every time Pavi got passionate about something of spectacular beauty and design, the knowledge was committed to memory. He even became aware of how Pavi constantly put on and removed his jacket, torn between the perfection of that day’s outfit and relief from the heat of heavy, polluted air.

One particular night, after collapsing together in beautiful, post-sex bliss, Loki chanced to ask whether Pavi had ever seen the sky. In an exhausted daze, the other had laughed (completely unlike his usual cackle, as he inwardly noted) and given him an almost pitying look, as if he’d completely lost his mind.

“What? It’s right’a there. I kinda see it every day.”

“Ah yes. Silly me.”

That was all Loki needed. The idea was firmly planted in his mind and his heart was suddenly aflutter with nerves, for although the Trickster had an element of romance within him he’d certainly never expected it to bloom here, nor that he’d ever wish to act upon it.

But what was he to do, when Pavi still suspected nothing of his true identity? Now simply was not the time to reveal himself, Loki inwardly mused as he carded through thick, mussed locks and found himself smiling fondly when the other’s breathing began to slow, sleepy and satisfied.

✳✳✳

When finally he woke, the Largo heir found himself neither in his bed, in his home, nor in fact anywhere in Sanitarium at all… On top of that it was somehow pitch dark out, and bitterly cold— not at all suitable conditions for one as important as he! He was about to protest when what must have been sheer surprise burst from his lungs in the form of a high-pitched gasp, and it was that point that Loki crouched down beside him, the god appearing to have materialised from shadow itself.

“Wha…“ was all that Pavi seemed able to say, for his eyes, wide and sparkling with astonishment, were much too busy processing the view he’d suddenly realised was sprawling above him.

A boundless expanse of sky, velvety and blue-black, stretched out before them in a vast tapestry adorned with silver smatterings of stars— some minor and clustered together while others burned large and bright, solitary diamonds that were almost too painful to behold. If one were to venture to the precipice on which they were stationed they’d see that beneath them lay the putrid bales of moonlit smog that passed for the Earth’s ‘sky’ which, from their current perspective, only served to make the scene appear all the more like some bewitched land of fantasy.

Stunned as he was, Pavi had made no move other than his compulsive shivering, so as Loki helped him to his feet he swept a large, warm, furry cloak about the trembling shoulders and led him to the edge, that he could truly experience the fantastic view. He stood silently behind Pavi and wrapped his arms about his waist, pulling him close and feeling the shaking bundle gradually still. It was somewhat tender… yet as always, a measure of uncertainty and awkwardness hung between them.

 It was only after a long, unchecked period of simply staring that Pavi finally disturbed their tranquil moment.

"Loki, where… how did…?”

“Hush,” the god interrupted softly and, as he turned the smaller man to face him, slipped both hands beneath the cloak where they settled upon the small of his back. Pavi’s muscles noticeably tensed and he stared up at Loki with a vague sort of puzzlement, though his expression remained largely unreadable thanks to the heavily decorated mask. Even so, under the cool illumination of the moon that particular feature became almost chillingly beautiful, and his frosty streams of breath a constant reminder that beneath it lay…

… well, Loki had yet to find out— but the sheer anticipation to know, coupled with this very mysterious brand of desire that seemed to be pulling him deeper and deeper… it proved to be quite thrilling.

There seemed to be little reciprocation on Pavi’s end, what with his arms being all buried beneath furs and his visage that of a dazed dream, yet as Loki pulled him tighter into the embrace he could feel that within his arms the man’s pulse had significantly quickened. Soon their mouths were hovering a hair’s breadth apart, the chilled mist of their breaths intermingling, and it was at that point that Loki hesitated.

Before bringing them here the god had imposed upon himself a specific moment in which to bring his little plan to a close— a trigger action, if you will— to make all of this a reality while maintaining that he is but a man at the end of it all. However, just as Loki enjoyed their current dynamic and didn’t want this moment to end, neither could he resist making that final move he’d decided upon— the one that would have them waking up back in Pavi’s bed, rendering this experience naught but a very real-feeling construct of the mind… as far as the human was concerned, at least.

But for Loki this dream would be entirely real— an intimate experience that had ended on the most perfect note— and with this in mind he chastely kissed those cold, dead lips, smiling when he detected the warmth of the real ones that lay beneath. As he did so and Pavi finally sighed softly into him, both they and their surroundings seemed to melt away, fading away into obscure darkness.

A dream.

And yet when Pavi awoke in his warm bed with Loki beside him, there still would linger that distinct, icy chill upon his flesh.

 

 

**Prompt: Kiss**

When Loki popped in to see his favourite little Italian he found him asleep at his desk, surrounded by untouched papers that appeared to have been scattered in frustration. Even his coffee had gone cold. The poor dear— so tuckered out by a morning of doing sweet nothing. Granted, the fact Pavi was even out of bed and dressed in the morning was impressive in itself.

Quietly, the god made his way to where Pavi snoozed in his expensive, reclining office chair, inwardly amused at the somewhat ungraceful way his mouth hung open and marred the mask’s prettily painted features. Then, bracing a hand on the desk, he leaned down; at first his intent was to kiss or bite Pavi’s lips, however he decided that rousing him via a more sensate area would be far more effective. Thus he placed two soft kisses, one on each closed eyelid, then another on the pierced lobe of an ear before going on to adorn his throat with gentle affections.

Surely enough the sleeping Largo began to stir, and soon Loki was smiling at the hand carding rather clumsily through his raven hair.

“Hi…” Pavi murmured sleepily, and even nuzzled into him a little— probably about the most precious response Loki could have hoped for.

“Helloooo.”

Grinning wider (and yet not so deviously as one would expect), he turned the chair so that they were still facing when Loki dropped down onto his knees. His hands wasted no time in sliding beneath the hem of the thin, girly t-shirt Pavi wore before pushing it up to reveal his pale abdomen— and, of course, the perfectly groomed treasure trail that led one’s eye temptingly to his waistband.

He hadn’t expected the body in his grasp to tense so dramatically when he leaned in to place tender smooches down the subtle curve of his waist; much less did he expect a gasp and a shaky whisper of his name as his parted lips hovered over his tummy, teasingly waiting for the little wriggle that spoke of just how much Pavi enjoyed being touched there before trailing further kisses down that so vulnerable expanse of flesh.

Loki stopped where fabric prevented him from bestowing further attention, and as his hands fumbled with belt and buttons he looked up into eyes which were now filled with a dark languor. The Trickster smiled, and slowly licked his kiss-dried lips.

“Good morning, sweetness~”

 

 

**Prompt: "You’ve got yourself a bet, baby."**

That the two of them were incredibly vain was painfully obvious. Neither would accept a compliment on their qualities humbly, even from each other; in fact, it was enough to spark an almost competitive clashing of egos between the two, to the point where they both became very non-committal in their praising of the other.

Even so, Pavi was certainly the more self-conscious one, despite what he would have the masses believe. The most trivial words of critique—especially regarding his looks— had the potential to trigger what could only be described as a full-blown tantrum… or a downward spiral of depression and self-destruction. Eventually he’d brush it off and go for some light surgery as a pick-me-up, but the wound to his ego was always glaringly obvious. Loki hadn’t been told any of this personally, of course, but he had his own ways of acquiring such information…

It was hardly a difficult feat, when Pavi’s entire life seemed to be on film.

So it came as a surprise when the narcissistic Largo so readily took Loki’s bait one evening, while they were getting ready to go out. The god had taken grave offense to his appearance being described as ‘alright’, but at that very moment an idea had presented itself, and the look of outrage was soon replaced with a dastardly grin.

A friendly competition had been suggested, to see who between them could attract the most positive media attention within the next fortnight. Harmless as it seemed, such games also held boundless potential for humiliation— especially for Sanitarium’s most beloved bachelor— should any photos or articles choose to paint one in a bad light.

“And the loser has to bend his knee to the winner, yes?” Loki always liked to be crystal clear when it came to terms and conditions— and, of course, to add little embellishments. Just for fun. “For a whole week, the winner shall be treated as the most divine thing to walk the earth and worshipped like a god— no questions asked, and no complaining— by the loser. Do we have ourselves an agreement?”

Pavi nodded in return, his mask stretching to accommodate that ever-disgusting, cocky grin.

“You’ve got yourself a bet, baby.”

The poor little fool had no idea what he was getting himself into.

 


End file.
